


The roaring lobster dragon meets the queen of degeneracy

by Anonymous



Category: ContraPoints, Jordan Peterson
Genre: F/M, M/M, POV First Person, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:55:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21510646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A first-person fanfic of an encounter involving ContraPoints and Jordan Peterson.
Relationships: Jordan Peterson/ContraPoints
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Anonymous





	The roaring lobster dragon meets the queen of degeneracy

Today was a busy day for me. I’d just come back from work, exhausted, and wanted to plunge in such deep sleep, that even the honks of a noisy city wouldn’t wake me. Before I gave in to the wonders of my subconscious, a friend messaged me about something they knew I’d be interested in--ContraPoints was staging a talk close to where I lived, and the price of admission wasn’t excruciatingly high like it’s customary for YouTubers these days. So I said “Fuck it. I’m copping a ticket if only to add a tinge of excitement to my cartoonishly boring life.”

The days rolled by; my life, as mechanical as ever, was going to get mildly more bearable as I was going to see one of my idols speak in front of a live audience, whom I’ll share the privilege of sitting with. I was always a repressed boy--my mom taught me that the purpose of life was to grow up old enough until you have to plunge your stick into someone, or have their stick plunged into you. “It’s all about the babies” she said, but I didn’t want babies. I wanted a good life. Capitalism was sucking the life out of my soul already. I didn’t want to further emburden myself with the plight of poor wages as my dominion grows ever-larger. Still, I’m a creature of nature, and my yearning to ruck and muck hasn’t gone away, if so a bit repressed from years of being told extramarital sex is taboo--but that wouldn’t be for long.

At the end of the workday on a nice Friday, I was going to treat myself to a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence--Natalie Wynn removed her Twitter account, so there was no way for me to cravingly reply to her tweets and seeking as little as a like, but this talk presented an opportunity for me to see her up close; to know if the filter of online interactions was really that deceitful, or is she indeed the brilliant individual I’d been sold on for months now.

I left my rusty Corolla in a nearby parking lot, and headed straight for the conference room where this talk was hosted. As I entered the building, I noticed a distinct sheen I’d never paid much mind to before--windows glistening with the glow of a thousand candles, and hosts forthcoming with generosity as countryfolk of a long bygone era. I trucked ahead, got my ticket checked, and waltzed in a little earlier so Natalie wasn’t on stage yet. I grabbed my seat, next to me a girl, and she wanted to know why I came.

“I’m so excited! Because of Natalie, I finally took up HRT, and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been!” she gleefully divulged to me. I enthusiastically shared her excitement: “Yeah! My household’s policy around all the stuff that Natalie talks about is to never touch it. She taught me that it’s okay to be a delinquent, long as you do it on healthy and consensual terms”. There was a look of confusion on this lass’s face. “Oh… I see,” though I made sure to quickly follow that up with a clarification. “Not THAT kind of delinquent. More like embracing the nature of your inner sex fiend. Pouring milk on pictures of those you despise the most and such. It’s riveting.” She burst out laughing, all before following up: “Oh yeah, I’ve always been kinky. Except now, I guess I can perform as my own true self”.

We just kept on chatting about what Natalie had brought to our lives personally until the lights suddenly went out. “Oh my God!” I was whispering to myself as I shook, and there she is! Natalie Wynn appeared as a puff a smoke grazed her perfect smooth blond hair, in a display of uttermost wonder. The crowd exploded with clapping, whistling, and a general admiration for what she did to them--a great chunk of them having looked radically different before her videos entered their lives.

“Hi guys! This is your favorite biological female!” Natalie opened up her speech, as everyone shared a candid laugh in the room. The elephant in the room wasn’t unnoticed, as she’d recently left social media for reasons I was not completely clear on--I already lived on a great dose of anxiety in my day-to-day, so indulging the seemingly-endless fighting on places like Twitter wasn’t exactly my cup of tea. “I always felt like it was important for me to connect with my fans, and there will be more of these events as time goes on. It’s just easier for me to account for people’s presence and not have everything devolve into a shouting match, you know!” as it got a few chuckles out of the room.

I had recently been introduced to the concept of “parasocial relationships”, and I think this one was a pretty fair display of it. As Natalie kept talking, I got this feeling that I knew about her as much as those closest to her--I knew it was weird, but it was hard not to relate to at least the common strand of humanity that united us all. I may have not undertaken hormonal transition, much less grown a decent rack, but my life was for the better by having Natalie in it.

The talk was a short one--and thank God for that. It may have been just on the cusp of the weekend, but I wanted to have plenty of levity for me squad up with my Destiny buds before I hit the cushion. Don’t judge me--I have a boring life outside of work, but it’s the only thing keeping my mind away from more troubling thoughts.

We’re told to move off the conference room as someone else was delivering their talk to another fandom who I could not be less interested by, and I headed down for a meeting area where I could get literally anything signed by Natalie. I’m a simpleton, so I just took a blank sticker that I would just put on whatever surface I felt like blessing with Natalie’s fine produce.

I got what I wanted, kept hanging out with some folks in the hall, but then, something weird happened--I thought I saw the silhouette of someone who looked like Jordan Peterson heading into Natalie’s hotel room. Judging by the energy in the air, either I was jaded from my tireless day at work, or I was in for a surprise if I let curiosity get the best of me. For better or worse, I let it, and doing my best impression of Adam Jensen, I managed to get in unnoticed as the door was barely shut. What’s that I saw? She who warned me about the scorn of Peterson against people of my kind was suddenly talking to him? My mind couldn’t process it. I could’ve taken a photo and sold it to TMZ, but I wasn’t that materially deprived--so I decided it was best to barge in and see what both’s explanation was for why hasn’t either of them knocked the other one out cold yet. I got in, and closed the door to the sound-sealed room so none may hear this imminent shouting match.

“Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing here?” Natalie exclaimed. Before Peterson could spit out a word, I quickly retorted: “I’m a big fan of yours...and far as I know, Jordan Peterson isn’t part of the guest list for this conference, so what’s happening? My mind is whizzing about with theories of what this means, and they aren’t pretty.” Peterson, the dragon of lobster chaos, waved his hand forward with the finesse of a freekick by Beckham in his heyday. “I don’t mean ill son. I came here to make amends with Natalie.” My jaw had just about dropped on the floor, and before I could pick it up, as I stuttered and struggled to come up with an answer, I bounced with a combination of the words “You”, “I”, “He”, “What” and “How”, before I realized what was happening. Natalie’s tongue at that point had become loosened, and she confessed that her departure from social media was weighing down on her a lot. “I need friends. Even those I least expect to be at my side.” Continuing, she revealed an interesting bit of inside knowledge I think I was the only one privy to: “When I poured milk on Peterson’s head… It was more than a fantasy.” Peterson looked at Natalie wide-eyed, slightly confused, and probed: “Really? I’d…. I thought I burned every bridge there could’ve been between me and you.” Natalie, looking concerned “No baby I--” as Natalie barely caught herself slipping as I was watching this trainwreck of an emotional connection build, something even in my wildest fantasies I wouldn’t have imagined.

Peterson looked startled. “You really think of me that way?”, he asked. “Yes. I want to know the real you. Not your meat-diet you, or Patreon-grifter you.” Peterson then looked at both me and her, and whispered quietly “It’s all an act. I’m progressive at heart.” Natalie seemed enthused, and after a short moment of silence, she broke it wanting to know if he could “Prove it” and show her what he’s “Really made out of”.

Me, a low-ranking soldier, with no side to pick in this knowing what few had known about Peterson, got requested by Natalie to take part in the affair. “Hmmm. I never had a threesome before. Too many men I can’t trust. But I guess if the only guns in this room are the ones attached to your sexes… guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” as she slowly slid the tip of her index finger on her lower-lip, slightly revealing a bit of her flesh and perfect teeth. “I… I’m your fan. I sure love your content and maybe fantasized ab--” and before I could finish, Natalie cut me off and said “You did what sweet summer child?”. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t finish the thought, but before I could come up with any coherency to counter her claim, she stood up, curbs gracing her bottom and bust like the earthly goddess she is, walked up to me and whispered into my ear, “Do you know about the mouthfeel?”.

Of course I know about the mouthfeel! But I didn’t know that the first to possibly rub against my tastebuds is that of the one and only fascist-fighter, ContraPoints herself. Peterson was at first hesitant. He looked as though the idea of him fucking a trans woman was more comfortable than truly indulging in something less unconventional. “You um… really want to do this Natalie?” he asked, but she wasn’t dissuaded the slightest. “Fuck yes.” she unhesitantly replied. “Theryn left me since she couldn’t bear with the pressure of all the shit I’ve been going through and fuck. Even I were to let a Nazi impale the in-betweens of my asscheeks, I’d feel so much than I have been lately.” Peterson and I were both shocked, and it seemed that the desire to satisfy her pity had run us both.

“Alright Natalie. Do whatever you may please,” I resoundingly asserted, Peterson hesitantly doing the same. “Kneel before your biological female queen” she told us. It turns out both of us were submissive and showed little resistance. Jordan Peterson had a slightly taller stance than I, so he looked more imposing, but Natalie showed me mercy as she gleefully told me “Don’t worry honey, you’ll taste that mouthfeel too”.

Natalie was sporting a beautiful gown. It looked similar to the one she wore to her Salty shoot--very sparkly, loose, but just showing enough of her features she could flaunt about to the feasting eyes of a lustful many. Below that extravagant attire, were just the sight of her charcoal black bra, whose fit I’ve seen only matched by designer-brands like Gucci, and a set of red underwear that’d at least confirmed with mild certainty she had not undertaken gender-reassignment surgery yet. It was a relief for me--I have no idea how to handle a fuckhole--and looking at Peterson, it seemed to corroborate his confession to being a progressive--the sight of girldick is one to trigger many, but Peterson looked unfazed, if a little excited.

Me and Peterson were still fully clothed. But it didn’t mean we weren’t in on the action. “Pete, kiss me like I’m your would-be dead wife ascendant from the grave. Kiss me like you’d feign my departure for the heavens above,” she confidently said. Peterson took her up on it and slowly walked in, as his right slowly rested above her plentiful bottom, caressing her slowly until the tip of his fingers touched the rift between her pleasure hole. He lunged for the kiss, passionately wrapping his coffee-scented tongue around hers, in a gesture whose irony would only be akin to Donald Trump sharing a bed with Michelle Obama.

They dislodged, but Natalie wanted more, and she was impatient. She gestured towards me, pointing towards her panties, and telling me to pull them down with my teeth. “I beg your pardon?” I hazily replied. “Don’t you wanna carry the story of having screwed your favorite creator with you to the grave? I’ll not ask twice.” If I were to have grandchildren, I’d sure as hell want to let them know I mingled with Her Majesty the Empress of Degeneracy. My life is uneventful, but I’ll at least have that shrugged aside as a joke in our work cocktail parties, me knowing it’s fully real. I replied with the reserved temperament of a VSCO girl “sksksksk” before my instincts got the best of me and went ham on her lowerware like a hungry lion at a wounded gazelle.

Lunging with the speed of a ferocious beast, just as Peterson had finished kissing her, I grabbed her panties with my teeth, and dropped them down to her feet. Natalie rolled it around and tossed it to the corner of the room, just as I got exposed to this monumental of a genital makeup--balls tucked in, and a penis soft and malleable just hanging about, waiting for someone to give it its due. The revelation had shocked me--Was I about to be the first fan to get a whiff of her? It seemed like so.

I approached her inner thigh slowly, and smelled the musk-like breezer coming from her godly crevices--boy did she smell so good. I looked at her, and she nodded back--I was about to lick the figurative wounds of Natalie’s fallout with Theryn, as I was about to literally lick the last seldom token of her now-eroded masculinity. It wasn’t under the best of circumstances, but I had to make due with what I had. I got in, the outside of her inner thigh ruffling my slight stubble, and I opened my lips slowly, as bits of her outer genital flesh grazed the tip of my tongue. She released a moan as I started pulling the pressure inside my mouth, her head arching back as Peterson awaits command. “Are you going to sit there still? Why don’t you suckle on my freshly-grown breast you secretive sex fiend,” gesturing to Peterson who hadn’t disclosed his affinity with trans women before. “Whatever you ask, I’ll heed the call,” he softly answered.

Natalie’s bra, haven’t come undone, was lowered on its left side as Peterson carefully grabbed her tit and made a Titan’s dig inside. “Oh wow Peterson. I thought you were only the dragon of chaos. Turns out you breathe fire of earthly pleasure as much as seafood,” she jested. Peterson, having taken the hint, continued to run fire down her sexually-deprived system, just as I slowly and softly mucking about in a forest of unforgivable pleasure, right where none dared to venture before.

It was clear that Natalie had grown tired of us still being clothed after a minute of tit-and-ball-suckling. She ordered us both, “Take it all off. I want it all to be mine, if only for this inopportune evening.” Us, being captivated by the spell her mouth-watering gaze and the sweet taste of her most-treasured parts, we took on a race to see who’ll dangle their dick before her the fastest. I was fortunately wearing sports attire, so that wasn’t hard, but it was funny to watch Peterson stumble as his academic-appealing apparel was harder to disavow.

We’d both become undone, and Natalie told us, very bluntly, “Come feast, as if you were my fresh newly-born babies.” We went, each of us grabbing a piece after she ripped the bra right off her bust, revealing the most pomegranate-like pair of sweet tits we’d ever seen. It’s as if God has bestowed upon us the honor of forever sharing one of his perfectly-crafted heavenly virgins. We’d come close, Peterson being the smooth guy he is, merely lent in and grabbed the tip of her nipple as he bit it, Natalie throwing a moan as she caught the end of his sharp teeth. Me, I was a bit more vanilla with my approach--I carefully placed my hands on the lower-left side of her right tit, just as I spat on it, then placed my mouth ever-so-softly on it. And out of nowhere, she started to lactate, as if her affection were starting to pour on us in more ways than metaphorical. We took her milk in, just as our dicks were getting rock hard, priming us for an encounter we’d not know the extent of until confronted by. Natalie kept moaning, just as her hand were steadily rubbing against the outside of her tushy, until she suddenly stopped and told us what we’d anticipated, but hadn’t been fully prepared for.

“I want one of your dicks inside of me. It doesn’t matter whose. A biological girl craves pleasure, and pleasure she may get.” Peterson, as comfortable as he was with the idea of thrusting his 7-inch cock inside of a trans woman’s asshole, wanted to be eased into it. So I stepped forward, and offered myself as an ethically-unsound sacrifice. “Queen, turn around, and your wish may be answered.” Lustful for a stick inside of her hole, she authoritatively turned around, and as a bonus, bent over backwards for the easiest access to her G-Spot sanctuary. I grabbed both ends of her ass with both of my sweaty hands, and kept teasing the gland of my stiffen stick against the outside of her rectal opening. “Just get in, the anticipation is killing me already,” Natalie urged. Obliging, I slammed my dick right inside of her. She screamed a sharp and loud moan as the blissful juices of her inside covered the wrinkly skin of my scarcely-used gift. I pulled back, slowly, then thrust back in. Repeating it in slow motion, just as I was washed away with insurmountable amounts of pleasure. In the heat of the moment, I asked Peterson to rummage me. “Come and fuck me Pete. I so crave that dick of yours.”

Just as Natalie was pulsating with jolts of joy from our unlikely connection, Peterson gave in to his inner evolutionary beast and went straight for the prize. He wasn’t one for introductions--he channeled his big dragon energy to give me the best pounding I could ever have hoped for. My rectum was left a defeated soldier at the ways Peterson seemed to give it his all, and I had to oblige accordingly for the lady in front of me.

I kept pushing and pushing, my dick naturally lubricated by Natalie’s excited inners, I felt like giving back to her in some way. Her tits bouncing up and down, nipples pointed at the ground, the oh-so-beautiful sight of her genitals below as her hair flails as it touches the floor, her impeccable waistline rounding off the package of bodily euphoria I was feeling--it was just perfect. Peterson took a liking to fucking me too--despite the massive age difference, I felt like he was the metaphorical daddy I never had. Overwhelmed with pleasure, I grabbed Natalie from her breasts, pulled her close to me, and thrust my dick inside of her as hard as I can, in and back also as fast as I can, as my balls bounced back the outside of her skin at every turn, just as she was rubbing the outside of her sex as fast as she could. Peterson equally as eager, picked up the pace. At that point, the room was an indistinguishable blob of moaning and bodily fumes getting spread across the room.

But all things must come to an end, and a triumphant one this was indeed. Overcome with emotion, my eyesight nearing vertigo, I gave in--I let out the sharpest scream I’d ever had. My semen came rushing outside my dick, as it poured hotly inside her ass. Boy was the effort worth it, and boy was the outcome even more gratifying. Natalie had cum at right about the same time, and so did Peterson--all horsemen of the apocalypse a number too small, with none the vices of God’s servants. We all collapsed on the floor after exerting so much energy, but the ordeal wasn’t yet done--I cupped a handful of Peterson’s semen inside of me, got it inside my mouth, and as I turned around a euphoric Natalie, I spat out in her mouth, saying “This is what he’s worth”.

Natalie took liberty to grab what cum had entered her asshole, and kept sucking on it lustfully, as she looked to me like a needy dog. As Peterson kissed the back of my neck, I grabbed Natalie, as I softly dug into her lips, and telling her, “As temporary as this may have been, I had the time of my life.” I gave her a token of my appreciation too, as I kissed the inside of her neck repeatedly and in multiple spots, cementing the moment we had.

*An Alarm Rings*  
“Oh fuck, this was but a wet dream.”


End file.
